The 68th Hunger Games
by hpislife1226
Summary: Aurelia Redmond's mother is the mayor of District 10, and therefore she's one of the privileged. But even that can't save her from being reaped into the Hunger Games...
1. Chapter 1

I don't sleep much the night before the reaping. I don't think anyone in the whole district does, or even maybe all of Panem. Even if you haven't signed up for tesserae, your name only in there the minimum number of times, you're still nervous. There's always a chance that you'll get picked.

Being the mayor's daughter, I've never had to sign up for tesserae. We're privileged compared to most of District 10, many of whom haven't had full bellies in years or maybe even their entire lives. I wouldn't say our live is quite so luxurious, but my mother's job does have it perks every now and then.

I wake up early in the morning and pass my mother's office, where usually she receives updates from the Capitol in the morning and then handles the problems we have in the district. She's not in there today, though. She has ought to be in the City Square, overseeing the reaping that will take place today, at two PM sharp.

I decide to spend my morning by visiting our family farm. Since my mother was appointed mayor by President Snow five years ago, we've hired some workers to keep the place running, but we hardly need it. My mother's salary as mayor is sizable enough that we can buy food from the butcher. Mostly the food and products that's made by the animals we still have there is shipped off to the Capitol, and the small amounts of it that we're permitted to keep my mother orders to be sold in the local markets. But even if the farm has little purpose until my mother chooses to retire as mayor, I still visit it every once and a while and work with the animals. It soothes me. Ever since I was little, I've always loved animals. My teachers at school said I'm almost certain to be a fantastic cattle rancher when I grow up.

Today I visit Lucy, a female horse who's exactly the same age as I am, 15. Today, as if she knows that it's the reaping, she sits on the ground not looking very excited about anything, and I join her, stroking her mane.

"I'm scared, Lucy," I say to her, as if she can hear me. "My name's only in there four times. I know I'm lucky, but still, I'm scared."

I stay at the farm and tend to a few more of the animals, including our pregnant cow, before it's so close to the reaping that I'm certain my mother will be fretting if I'm not home soon. I leave the farm and walk down the dirt road into town, past all the shops that are closed today to my house.

By relative comparison to the rest of the houses in District 10, which are mostly small, run-down wooden barn houses. Nobody spends much time in them anyway, except to eat and to sleep, for most work in the fields herding animals day and night. Some, like the butchers and the genetic testers who work in the labs, live on the northern edge of the district in more upscale homes. But since my mother is the mayor, we get to live in the official residence, which is dead in the middle of the Town Square, adjacent to the Justice Building and only about thirty feet from where two children will be sentenced to their deaths today.

"Aurelia!" My mother screams from upstairs almost immediately after I close the door behind me when I enter the home. She thunders down the stairs, dressed in a lavender, frivolous dress that she wears to most special occasions. Why the reaping is a special occasion, I don't know. But since she is the mayor, she's front and center at all of them and the camera almost always pans to her at one point during the recap later in the day.

"The reaping is in thirty minutes!" She says. "The sirens are going to call for your summons any minute! Go get dressed, now!"

I walk upstairs to my room to find a simple but pretty outfit of a white shirt and a floral skirt laid out for me on my bed, but I'm in no rush to put it on. This may be my fourth reaping, but it's no less nerve-wrecking than the first time. There may be nearly 10,000 names in that crystal ball that our escort, in her flambouyant Capitol get-up, will read from, but only two will matter. And one of them may be mine.

My mother is waiting by the door by the time I finally suck it up and walk downstairs. She's not giving me a look of disapproval now, but instead one of sadness and sympathy. Before we go outside, she brushes my hair before a mirror, looking into it.

"You look so much like your father," she says, and tears well up in your eyes. "He would know what to say to you today. I just-you're going to be fine, Aurelia. I love you."

She kisses me on the head, and I can't help but thinking how much she must have loved my father. I was only four when he died after being accidentally injected with a medicine that was intended to be fatal to unruly animals, so I don't remember him much. But after 11 years without him, after becoming mayor and now having an entire district to worry about, she still tears up every time she speaks of him. I wish I could have known him better.

We wait on the verandah until the siren rings to summon all children ages 12-18 to the Town Square for the reaping. Most are already here, though, and the Peacekeepers immediately begin signing everybody in. I walk across the square, which is empty but slowly filling up, to join the line to officially have my attendance confirmed. I spot one of my friends, Ella, in line, and join her. She clings to me desperately.

"I'm terrified," she says. "My name is in there nineteen times."

I just hold her hand, not wanting to tell her what's obvious: my name is only in there four times. Ella's parents are breeders, and although she probably eats better than most of the district because her parents get to keep some of their meat from the animals they breed, they don't make much money. Ella has, like most of the children here today, been given no other option but to apply for tesserae. Apparently, fifteen times over, just for a meager supply of grain and oil.

"Next, please," I hear the Peacekeeper sitting at the table say. I walk forward hesitantly, and she grabs my finger, taking a scan of it. AURELIA REDMOND shows up on the screen, and she nods, allowing me to go past the rope barrier. I wait for Ella and then we follow the signs to stand where all the other 15-year olds stand.

After nearly a half an hour of nervous chatter among the crowd, our district escort, Chellne, shows up on stage. This year, she's wearing a sparkling emerald skirt that flows from the loose, flowing bottom into the tight, spandex-like material on the top that's layered on top of each other in hideous patterns. Her skin is a pale violet color, and I can see that she's added some new gems that are implanted into various areas of her body. "Welcome, welcome everyone!" She chirps in her ridiculous Capitol accent. "Let me begin by saying that it is an honor to escort the tributes of District 10 in the 68th annual Hunger Games!"

"But first, let's begin with the film."

The television behind her illuminates and begins showing the video that's played every year at the reaping, that tells of Panem's story. After a global war, our country emerged, and was divided into thirteen districts and the Capitol. They lived peacefully, until rebels in the district unhappy with the Capitol's 'graceful' ruling over them, and then began the Dark Days. After the districts were all defeated and the thirteenth obliterated entirely, as a punishment for the rebellion and a reminder that the districts could not overcome the power of the Capitol, each was required to send two teenagers, one male, one female, between the age of 12 and 18, known as tributes, to fight to the death yearly on live television. The winner of this competition, called the Hunger Games, would be crowned the victor, and would live in happiness and riches at the grace of the Capitol for the rest of their lives.

My mother calls it 'propaganda'. Every year after the reaping she goes home and tells me how most people are oblivious as to just how much the Capitol deprives the districts of.

Chellne looks like she's about to cry of nostalgia and everybody else just looks unhappy by the time the video ends. She claps her hands together, and walks towards the two crystal bowls, which sit upon to Capitol-crafted tables. "Alright, now let's get on to the reaping! As always, ladies first."

I can visibly see all of us potential tributes in the crowd tense up as Chellne elegantly reaches her hand, laden with her absurdly long maroon fingernails into the bowl. She grabs a single slip of paper, and I bite my lip in anticipation of who will be sent to their death this year.

Chellne clears her throat and reads the tribute's name.

"Aurelia Redmond."


	2. Chapter 2

They say you don't really know when you go into shock. Just that you kind of pause in life, and goosebumps suddenly arise across your body. That's almost exactly what I felt after I heard my name being called.

I don't move, but I can see Ella next to me, mouth wide open. Everyone around me seems to be paused, starring at me. Being the mayor's daughter, many of them probably envy my somewhat privileged life as it is. But not today. Not now.

After a few seconds of not moving, I look over at my mother, who has stood up from her chair close to stage, and is starring at me. I can see a tear run down her face. I know she wants to volunteer, but she can't.

Meanwhile, it seems as enough time has passed that Chellne has become annoyed. She loudly clears her throat and says, "Aurelia Redmond? Would Aurelia Redmond please come up here?"

I find my footing and step out of the crowd, only to be immediately escorted by Peacekeepers who are walking much faster than I am. One of them actually pokes me with his gun as I slowly approach Chellne, who is smiling brightly onstage and directs me to the front.

"Hello, dear!" She says, almost motherly, as if I that haven't actually just been sentenced to my death. "Aurelia. How old are you, Aurelia?"

I look at my mother, sitting in the front row, who is still standing while everyone else around her has sat down. I can see tears running steadily down her face. She's looking around, waiting for someone to volunteer, which doesn't happen in District 10. She's trying to do something, trying to take back time. But she can't. My mother, who I've always seen as the all-powerful mayor who can do anything she wants, simply can't help me when I actually need her.

"15," I say, although it probably comes out like I sound unsure about myself. Chellne looks at me like she's about to ask me something again, but turns away and claps, smiling at the crowd.

"Now, for the boys," she says, reaching her hand into the crystal bowls. Just one slip will determine who my district partner will be. My partner, who is also destined to die.

"Tacker Afcloe."

Tacker Afcloe. I think he's in a grade older than me, but I can't exactly place his face. It's good, though, that I don't know him well, because I could potentially end up having to kill this boy.

Or get killed by him.

Tacker seems more certain about himself after he's reaped. He doesn't look aimlessly off into the distance for thirty seconds, but instead walks with purpose up towards the stage. He still looks upset, but he's handling the situation much better than I am. Probably I should have acted more like Tacker.

"And Tacker, how old are you?" Chellne asks.

"16," he says, louder than I do, but again, not with much excitement.

Chellne smiles. "Ladies and gentlemen, the tributes of District 10 for the 68th Hunger Games!"

Nobody claps. I think Chellne expects us to, although nobody claps when the tributes are officially confirmed for any Hunger Games for as long as I can remember. Now that I think of it, I don't think they do in any districts, save for 1, 2, and 4, maybe.

After we're introduced and shake hands, I'm escorted by the same volatile Peacekeepers into the Justice Building, through the maze of hallways that I've only journeyed a thousand times when my mother hosts official meetings here. I'm taken into a room that I've never been in before, painted red with a blue sofa and a beautifully crafted desk on opposite sides, but that's it. I take a seat on the couch and begin to cry.

I'm not sure how long it is before the door bursts open and my mother rushes in. A Peacekeeper says, "You have three minutes," before abruptly slamming the door shut.

My mother sits down on the couch and we hug, both crying for nearly a minute. We then pull away and she looks at me, intently.

"You're going to win," she says. "You have to win, Aurelia."

I nod and we hug again, although that's really the first time I've ever been told that I could win. It really never crossed my mind. When you're from District 10 and you get reaped into the Hunger Games, it's always been pretty much accepted that you're going to die. Herding cattle and maintaining the genetic diversity of embryos can only get you so far in the arena.

"You have to stay strong," I say to my mother. "The district needs you. You're the best mayor they've ever had." I hug her. "And I will win. I promise."

We're mid-embrace when the Peacekeeper comes into the room and stands in the doorway. She doesn't come over to my mother and rip her out of my arms, as I normally would've expected her to. But of all the privileges of my mother's mayoralty, me being able to say good-bye to her for another few seconds is definitely in the top.

"Good-bye, honey. I'll see you soon. I love you," she says, and gets up. She stares at me the whole time as she walks out of the room, until the Peacekeeper closes the door behind her.

Another five minutes of the purgatory state that I'm in passes until Ella is thrust into the room. She's clearly been crying, as her hair is messed up and the pale makeup she's applied this morning is now running down her face. She runs over to me, sitting on the couch, and hugs me tightly.

"I'm going to miss you so much," she says, and I realize that there's a difference between my mother's visit and her's: Ella understands that I'm going to die, but my mother is still clinging to the one-in-twenty-four chance that I may live.

"I'm so sorry," Ella adds when she finally pulls away from the hug. "I wanted to volunteer. It should've been me. Everybody in the district loves you, but I just couldn't..."

"Stop," I say, holding her. "It couldn't have been you. Calliope and Otto need you now more than anytime. My mother will be able to live, they can't."

Calliope and Otto are Ella's younger sister and brother. Although she complains about them a lot, I've always secretly envied her for having a complete family, two parents, a brother, and a sister. I've never had a sibling and ever since my father died, it's just been me and my mother.

The Peacekeeper bursts into the room and declares that the three minutes is up, and as I suspected, this time she actually drags Ella out of the room. She's crying and fighting against the Peacekeeper, but she's much stronger than her. The door slams behind them.

I'm preparing to be taken away to the train station now, but nobody comes for me. When they do, the Peacekeeper isn't alone, but with a man: my uncle, Lennon.

I haven't spoken to him in awhile. In fact, I haven't even thought of him at all today-which is strange, given that he's one of District 10's three victors, all of whom are, somewhat surprisingly, living. Being my father's brother, he won the 39th Hunger Games at the age of seventeen. Since then, he's been cold and distant; my mother and I don't speak to him much and I don't think my father does much, either. He's a huge drunk. My mother says it's a coping mechanism for many victors of past Games, but even she doesn't want to be around him much. He lives in the Victor's Village, lone with our district's other two victors, Saskia and Callum. Him being unmarried and unappealing, I've only visited his home a few times. I hadn't even remembered that he could possibly be my mentor until now.

He actually looks sober today, which is probably a first. As the door closes behind him, he just looks at me.

"I know you probably don't want to talk to me," he says. "But I just wanted to wish you good luck. Maybe District 10 will actually have a winner this year."

He approaches me and, although hesitantly, gives me a hug. I reluctantly accept, but during our embrace he says, "I believe in you, Aurelia. You're a strong girl. And-I'm sorry I haven't been around much. Your father would be so disappointed in me."

He sighs and pulls away from me, pulling a ring off his finger. It's silver and has the logo of District 10, an ox with two axes coming out of it's head. He hands it to me.

"Take it," he says. "It was my token from my Games. I want it to be yours, too."

I smile. "Thanks," I say, completely forgetting until now to take a token. I place it on my finger and give him a hug.

We can hear the Peacekeeper's feet thundering down the hall and he turns to me before he leaves. "Things can get rough in there, kiddo," he says. "I'm sorry I can't be your mentor. I-I love you."

He follows the Peacekeeper out the door and it slams shut, leaving me shocked that for the first time in my life, my uncle has actually said he _loved _me.

The Peacekeeper returns after, presumably, escorting my uncle out of the Justice Building. "I'm here to escort you to the train station, Miss Redmond," she says.

As I follow her down the hallway and out of the Justice Building, which immediately leaks to the train station, I wonder who my mentor is going to be. I would prefer Saskia, who won her games by getting in with the Careers and convincing them that there was still a tribute left when it was actually just them, and then she surprise attacked them, instantaneously becoming the winner. It was a despicable way to win, but she was a good enough fighter to get in with the Careers as it was.

Then there's Callum, a man who's almost 90 years old and was the victor of the 2nd Hunger Games. Even though he's so old, the Capitol adores him because the victor of the 1st Hunger Games is no longer alive, and therefore he's the earliest reigning victor in all of Panem. Pretty impressive, although I can't see him being able to do much in the way of mentoring.

The cameras flash as I board the Capitol train. I look around before stepping into the fanciness to see my mother, but I don't. The door behind me closes and the train zips away from the only life I've ever known for good.


End file.
